


Resurrection

by Nightlydemon



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightlydemon/pseuds/Nightlydemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just before high school ended for Ichigo, he was greatly hurt by someone he cared about deeply and they ended up dead. He fell hard into a depression and a life of self-inflicted misery as the Arrancar's rebuilt their society.</p><p>Grimmjow spent several years in recovery from the last time he fought Ichigo, he's risen to the Segunda position, and he's out for blood. He travels to the human world expecting to find a proud warrior still fighting, but instead finds a sniveling alcoholic with no will to live.</p><p>Grimmjow can't bring himself to kill someone who's fallen so far from grace, so he decides to pull Ichigo out of his issues and restore the proud warrior he once was... So he can kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly accepted, even if it's not praise. Praise makes me feel good, but the writing world is highly competitive, so unworthy praise is actually a hindrance.

Ichigo trudged down the street. He was having a terrible day and to top it all off, he’d gotten called back into work because he was the only one stupid enough to pick up the phone. He’d already worked that morning and now had to work the night shift. He really wanted to just jump in front of a moving car just to see if the resulting accident would break his legs. Five years since the war with the arrancars, and he was stuck working double shifts at a club. The drunks alone pissed him off at night.

“This day couldn’t possibly get any worse,” Ichigo muttered under his breath. Right in front of him the air split and a crack into darkness opened up. A teal haired espada stepped out facing away from the orange haired man. A black, gothic two shone brightly on the pale skin of this espada. The hair was a dead giveaway. “Great, it just got worse.”

“Hey, shinigami! How’s the years been treatin’ ya?” Grimmjow questioned. His tone held a strong hint of not actually caring, but more of a way to tease the ex-shinigami.

“Like crap. Get outta my way,” Ichigo snapped and shouldered past the Segunda. The teal haired espada gripped the orangette’s arm.

“Not so fast. I trained hard fer another fight and rose through the ranks. I’m not lettin’ ya go without a fight,” Grimmjow hissed.

“That doesn’t seem hard since we killed all but two of ya guys. Besides, I’m not a shinigami anymore, so I couldn’t fight ya even if I wanted to. Let go, I’m late for work,” Ichigo stated coldly. He jerked his arm away and continued to walk down the street. The sun was just about set and he was supposed to be back at work ten minutes ago. Grimmjow watched the orangette walk away with the sun setting in front of him. He was mesmerized for a bit before he shook it off and followed the young man.

“What the hell!? I came all the way here for a fight, and I’m gonna get a god damn fight, Kurosaki!” Grimmjow shouted as he threw a punch at the back of those damned-able orange locks. Ichigo ducked and did a reverse sweep, then pushed himself back up, mimicking the reaction of someone who’d lost their footing. Random bystanders couldn’t see the espada fall flat, but they could see the ex-shinigami fall. He kept walking down the street as if he did nothing. The teal haired man jumped up and followed him. He grabbed the young orangette’s forearm and jerked it back over his shoulder painfully.

“What the fuck, Grimmjow!?” Ichigo shouted, but the espada didn’t even pay attention to him. What held his attention was a three inch long scar running the length of the orangette’s wrist. It looked like it was stitched closed at one time, but had been healed for quite a while.

“What’s that from?” the Segunda questioned. He already knew how it got there, but he was curious about why it got there.

“That’s none of yer business! Now let go so I can go to work!” Ichigo demanded.

“Fuck, Kurosaki! Yer a warrior and ya tried ta kill yerslef!? What the fuck happened ta ya!?” Grimmjow shouted. He threw the young man’s arm violently. He waited for an answer with an impatient scowl.

“It’s none of yer business! Go back to Hueco Mundo and leave me alone!” Ichigo snapped. He turned and went back to his task of getting to his crappy job. Grimmjow followed the younger male to catch him and demand answers, but the orangette burst into a sprint. The two ran down the street for a few blocks before the ex-shinigami dove into a dark alley and disappeared into the back door to Club Torrent. The espada pulled the door open and cringed at the sudden pounding in his sensitive ears. He brushed it off and looked at the orangette be met by a skinny broad in a skimpy little dress. She had pink hair with dark brown roots and yellow cat-eye contacts.

“Kurosaki-kun! Thank you so much for coming in for the night shift. Toshi bailed again because of a hangover. I swear, I’m gonna fire him if it happens again,” the young woman stated just before she threw her arms around Ichigo’s neck.

“Kurosaki, who’s the bitch?” Grimmjow asked.

“Uhm, Kurosaki-kun; is your friend here to apply for a job, or another spirit that’s following you? Because I don’t like his attitude,” the woman questioned.

“He’s a spirit that’s following me. I’ve told him to go home, but he’s not listening,” Ichigo stated with sever aggravation. Grimmjow growled before he moved forward and gripped the soft orange locks and yanked back viciously.

“I said I’m not goin’ back ‘till ya fight me, Kurosaki! I mean it, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya before I go back,” Grimmjow snapped.

“Then do it! Ya think I’ve got much to live for!? The seireitei threw me away as soon as I was no use to them, Goat-face moved and took my sisters with him and left me here to fend for myself, Kiuske won’t even recognize he was once my mentor, and the Visoreds don’t wanna admit I was ever one of ‘em! Go ahead and fucking kill me!” Ichigo shouted. Grimmjow let go of the young man’s hair and took a couple steps back to look at what his ultimate rival had turned into. He wasn’t happy about it at all. “Fuck, I even killed my own mother! There’s nothing for me, at all!”

“Kurosaki-kun,” the young woman started. The rest of her words faded into pity.

“What happened to you, Kurosaki? Ya were once so strong, now yer just a weakling,” Grimmjow stated with as much sorrow as he could muster.

“Life happened, and from what I’ve seen, death isn’t much better, so just go fuck yerself!” Ichigo spat before he turned to the employee’s changing room. Grimmjow was left with the skimpily cladded woman with almost nothing to say to her.

“Stay away from Kurosaki-kun! He’s been under a lot a stress lately and the last thing he needs is you just barging into his life and making him stress even more!” the woman demanded.

“Fuck ya, Bitch! I’ll get inta his business if I wanna, and nothin’ ya say is gonna stop me!” Grimmjow snapped.

“First off, it’s Shusoi! Not Bitch! Second, I owe Kurosaki-kun my life, and I will not have you making him hurt!” the woman snapped.

“Really? Well, I owe him a good beatin’! That little fucker barged inta my home and destroyed it! It’s taken five years ta rebuild it half way to its former glory!” Grimmjow snapped at her. “What’d he do fer ya, anyway?”

“He gave me the confidence to get out of a bad situation!” Shusoi snapped. “I was in an abusive relationship two years back, and Kurosaki-kun stepped in and put a stop to it. He even helped me get a job, and helped me get back on my feet. He saved my life, and I will do whatever it takes to make sure he finds the good in him again!”

Grimmjow let out a boisterous laugh. That sounded just like Ichigo: putting the needs of others over his own safety. Yeah, that trait destroyed Los Noches, but it was an admirable trait none the less. Shusoi didn’t find any humor in her debt at all, but she misunderstood the laughter.

“Yeah, that’s Kurosaki! Never able to stay outta other’s business,” Grimmjow stated. He left a very confused Shusoi standing in the back of the club without another word. He’d have stayed longer to argue, maybe even killed, with the woman had it not been for the constant pounding in his ears from the music up front.

The rest of Ichigo’s second shift was the typical night shift. Drunken assholes hit on him and asked if they could buy him a drink even though he was working. He almost had to beat them off with a stick if Shusoi hadn’t stepped in all the time. He really was grateful to her for stopping the pervert’s advances. It was now three in the morning and the orangette was on his way home. He never did get a license to drive, but at the same time, he’s never been able to afford a car. The young man was completely oblivious, as always, to the beast stalking him in the night. He made it all the way to his tiny apartment before his pursuer made any move. He gripped the ex-shinigami’s wrists and pinned them behind his back.

“Hello, Ichigo. Will you invite me in?” a familiar man cooed. The orangette cringed and resisted the sudden urge to vomit. His ex-boyfriend was forceful and extremely abusive, but the ex-shinigami had no power to stop any of it since all his spirit abilities were stripped from his soul. He could still see spirits, but that was about it.

“What do ya want Tenma? I thought I told ya to stay the fuck away from me,” Ichigo forced out. His face was smashed into his front door and his nose crackled. It was clearly broken and the orangette felt hot blood pour down his once night chilled face.

“Don’t talk to me that way, Bitch! I own you, and you will never be rid of me! Got it!? You are mine, and I can do whatever I want to you,” Tenma spat with a vile grin. Before the violent man could do anything else, the door to the apartment opened and a strong hand gripped his throat.

“Ichigo is my bitch, and I don’t fucking share!” Grimmjow snapped. Purely from lack of oxygen, Tenma let go of the orangette. The espada quickly pulled his onetime enemy through the door and behind him. “Get out of here and if I ever see ya again, ya’ll be a dead man, got it!?”

The Segunda released the human and he took off in fear. He turned to Ichigo and glared at him without any pity.

“Wha’ da fuck are ya doin’ in my apar’mend!?” Ichigo snapped through his bleeding nose. “An’ why da ‘ell are ya in a gigai?!”

“I talked to Kiuske. He agreed that ya need some form of protection, and I volunteered. It’s only a temporary set up, so don’t go getting comfy! I’m only doin’ this so ya’ll stop bein’ a li’l bitch boy!” Grimmjow snapped. All he wanted was for Ichigo to regain his fighting spirit. He wasn’t about to go back to the new espada without at least having killed this man.

“Well, ged a new ‘obby! Iz gonna be a while!” Ichigo snapped. He went to his bathroom and looked at his nose. It was extremely crooked now, but he still had some dignity left. The orangette firmly gripped his nose and twisted it back to straight, wincing the whole time. When it was straight, he grabbed a ratty old towel and pressed it to his face to stop the bleeding.

“Where’s that bubbly friend of yours? Wouldn’t she heal that in less than a minute?” Grimmjow asked nonchalantly. He leaned lethargically on the door jamb just watching his emotionally destroyed rival.

“Jee mobed do Dokyo do be a concep’ ardisd,” Ichigo stated. He knew he wasn’t speaking clearly, but he didn’t really care.

“What?”

Ichigo snatched a piece of paper and a pen from the bathroom junk drawer and scrawled it out: _She moved to Tokyo to be a concept artist, Dumbass._

“Oh. Well, she was annoying anyway,” Grimmjow rebuttled. He ignored that he was just called a dumbass, mostly because he didn’t want Ichigo to get worse emotionally. “Who was that guy, by the way?”

“My ex,” was all Ichigo stated. He shouldered past the espada and went straight to the kitchen. He pulled out an ice pack and wrapped it before he moved to the couch. He sat down and leaned his head back just enough to place the ice pack on his face. “When ya leabing, anyway? I’m neber gonna fighd ya.”

“Then I’m never leaving,” Grimmjow commented as he sat down on the other side of the couch. He lounged mostly because he’d been hiding in the tiny closet until he heard a thump on the door. The two sat in silence for several tense, awkward moments that seemed like hours.

“I hade ya, Gwimmdjow. I weally do,” Ichigo stated in frustration.

“I hate ya, too, Kurosaki. Why else would I want to kill ya?” Grimmjow stated. Neither men made any effort to laugh, touch, or even move. They just sat, in silence, on the couch.


	2. Chapter 2

Ichigo’s eye’s fluttered open for a second before they closed again. His bed was abnormally warm and it comforted him. At this point he didn’t care there was a fluffy blue head in his face. He was warm and content with soft skin under his hands. The orange haired man snapped his eyes open and lifted the blanket just enough to see underneath it. Grimmjow was snuggled right next to him like a napping cat. The worst part was the espada was completely naked. The younger man silently screamed and tried to get out of the bed, but strong arms tightened around him. The Segunda grumbled in his sleep and pulled the smaller body closer eliminating any hope for escape.

Ichigo calmed down and tried to remember why Grimmjow was even in his apartment. First, he came from Hueco Mundo for a fight, followed him to work, and Tenma attacked him, than the espada was in his apartment. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. There was an argument about where to sleep, but the smaller male could have sworn he won that fight.

_“Ya sleep on the couch!” Grimmjow snapped and tossed the pillow and blanket back to Ichigo._

_“My apartment, my bed! I’m not giving it up!” Ichigo snapped and tossed the items back._

_“Too bad, I want the bed!”_

_“I pay rent! Ya freeload and sleep on the couch!”_

_Grimmjow threw a punch and Ichigo ducked. The smaller male slammed his elbow into the larger’s gut. A strong fist slammed into the back of an orange haired skull. Everything went dark after that._

Ichigo stopped arguing with himself and agreed he didn’t really win anything. He looked down at the sleeping Grimmjow and two fierce cyan eyes glared up at him.

“Let go so I can go make breakfast,” Ichigo snarled.

“Can’t; there’s no food,” Grimmjow stated. He released the orange haired man and rolled over. He fell out of the bed since it was only a twin and his naked body slammed on the floor. “Fuck!”

“Why is there no food?” Ichigo questioned with a threatening tone. Grimmjow stood up and stretched his body back into shape. “Gyah! Go put on some clothes!”

“Ya don’t seem shocked too wake up next ta a naked guy ya didn’t go ta bed with,” Grimmjow stated.

“It’s not the first time, now why is there no food? I went shopping a week ago,” Ichigo growled.

“I ate it. Ya spent so much time at work I got bored,” Grimmjow stated. He turned around and stretched. “I need a shower. Care to join me?”

“No! I don’t get paid fer another week! What the hell am I gonna eat!?” Ichigo snapped. He was furious and really had to figure something out. Shusoi would buy him groceries for the week, but he could never bring himself to ask her to dive into her savings for him. He wasn’t paid enough for the luxury of savings. His apartment was the cheapest he could find that was within reasonable walking distance from Club Torrent.

“So go hunt some. Why is that so hard to think of?” Grimmjow snapped. He was opening random drawers and cabinets looking for towels, but was only finding Ichigo’s clothes. “Where the hell’re yer towels?”

“Ya need a fuckin’ job if yer gonna be livin’ here! Food isn’t hunted here, it’s worked for!” Ichigo shouted. “I gotta get ready fer work, so when I’m there, you go get a job!”

“I don’t need a damn job!” Grimmjow snapped. He was still naked and was showing no signs of getting dressed soon. Ichigo’s eyes couldn’t help trailing down to a rather impressing package with teal curls. His face turned a bright red before he turned to go to the bathroom.

“Just get a fuckin’ job if ya don’t wanna end up on the street! You better have one by time I get off,” Ichigo warned. He opened the door to the small bathroom and stripped down. He turned on the water and waited for it to start steaming before he stepped in and let the water hit his body. The image from his room seemed to have burnt itself in his mind. The orange haired man shook his head then cringed when a twinge of pain fired through his nose. He looked in the mirror just under the shower head. The swelling had gone down, but almost his entire face was a grotesque shade of purple.

“This sucks,” Ichigo grumbled out. His mind wouldn’t stop going to that one image. He closed his eyes and went over all the details. Well-toned muscles danced with shocking cyan eyes under vibrant teal locks. His mind pulled to the large scar on the espada’s left shoulder, then to the large scar on his chest. Those two scars were all the orange haired man’s fault. He caused the scar on the man’s chest five years ago, and the one on his shoulder wouldn’t be there if the ex-shinigami hadn’t distracted him. The orangette’s mind traveled further down over finely toned muscles with an impressive hollow hole set between them. Even further down rested a flaccid, but still rather impressive, manhood topped with soft teal curls.

Ichigo shook his head and cringed from his nose again. He scrubbed down with body wash and looked at how much was in the bottle. It was almost empty, but it should last him till the end of the week; well, it would if there wasn’t another body in the house that needed to use it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he needed to call Hasuboro for some extra work just to make it to the end of the week. That was going to be fun.

“Where the hell’s the towels?” Grimmjow called from the door. He was still naked and was making no move to get dressed.

“I only have one and it’s in here,” Ichigo stated as he rinsed the soap off his body. He stepped out without turning the water off. “Twist the knobs to the right when yer done.”

Grimmjow stepped into the shower with a sort of confused look on his face. He watched Ichigo towel off with an empty expression. It was almost painful to see a once strong warrior reduced to this pathetic person. He scrubbed himself down and by time he was done, the ex-shinigami had hung the towel back on the rod and left the room. The espada turned the handles the way he was told and the water stopped flowing. He stepped out and toweled off as best he could with a damp towel. He went looking for the orangette, but couldn’t find him in the tiny apartment. He pulled on a pair of loose sweatpants and opened the front door. Right in front of him on, leaning on the railing, was the ex-shinigami with a cloud of foul smelling smoke rising in puffs. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white button up shirt that was wide open.

“Whatever that shit is, it reeks,” Grimmjow commented. He leaned against the door jamb with a strange expression. It wasn’t pity, disapproval, or even hatred. It was almost empty with just a hint of curiosity and disappointment.

“Yeah, well, it’s not goin’ in yer body,” Ichigo half snapped. He took another drag on his cigarette before he tossed the butt over the rail into the parking lot.

“Smokin’ isn’t good for a warrior.”

“I’m not a warrior anymore. I’m just a bartender livin’ from day to day,” Ichigo stated with a chilling sense of cold disinterest. He shouldered back inside and finished getting ready for work. “I’m serious, Grimmjow. If ya wanna keep livin’ here, ya need ta get a job.”

Ichigo left for work and Grimmjow watched him leave, lost in thought. His onetime enemy disappeared around a corner before the Segunda went back into the apartment to look for some presentable clothes. He dug through all of the orangette’s clothes, but could only find a pair of tattered jeans and white tank that would remotely fit him. They would have been baggy on the young man, but of the Segunda, they were almost skin-tight. He looked onto a mirror on the wall and raised an eyebrow. He didn’t really look like himself, but it was the only thing that was normal for humans that he could find. The espada snagged his uniform jacket and pulled it over her shoulders to hide the scar on his shoulder. He wasn’t ashamed of it; he just hated it when the humans he did run into on his way from Urahara Shop asking what happened. He looked a bit more like himself, but it was weird to see his face without his mask fragment. He stepped out the door and set out to find a job.

By the time Grimmjow was sure Ichigo was finished with work, he’d been to ten different places looking for a job. The first café said he wasn’t what they were looking for, the second one he’d accidentally spilt freshly brewed espresso on the manager, and the third one was already over staffed. He tried a couple flower shops, but didn’t get a job at any when he answered the common question “what special skills do you have?”

“Fightin’ and fuckin’,” was always his answer. It was the most honest answer he could give, but none of them liked it. He even tried a few construction site, but accidentally destroyed the month’s work that was done and set the entire project back on one. Apparently word travels fast in the construction world. The Segunda was now sitting at a bus stop staring at his feet. He’d been approached by a couple business men who offered him a decent sum for one night in their bed, but the espada wasn’t going to stoop that low for a job. Especially since the business men held a strongly dominant look in their eyes. It wasn’t long before a strange man approached the espada. He was tall and built like a fighter, but nowhere near warrior.

“Hey, ya look like a strong individual. Would ya like a job?” the man asked.

“I’m not a hooker,” Grimmjow stated bluntly. He turned his eyes to the sky and watched the clouds move across the vibrant blue.

“Where’d that come from?”

“I’ve been asked four times if I’d be willin’ to have sex for money. I’m not a hooker, and I have standards,” Grimmjow stated with a sense of aggravation.

“I was just gonna to ask if ya were a martial artist down on his luck, but if yer not interested, I can always go find someone else who is,” the man cooed out with a sly, baited tone.

“If it has somethin’ to do with fightin’, I’m all ears, but I’m still insistin’ that I’m not a hooker.”

“My name is Kishishi. I run a local fight club and we hold weekly tournaments. It’s free to join the tournaments and the winner gets half the profits from ticket sales. There’s no one tryin’ to have sex with ya,” Kishishi explained.

“And if I lose?”

“Ya aren’t out anythin’ except time and maybe some medical bills. I’m one fighter short, and ya look like a fightin’ fella,” Kishishi responded with a devilish gran.

“What’s the catch?” Something about this guy was really putting Grimmjow on edge. He wasn’t telling the whole story, but he did promise fighting, and the Segunda was really good at that.

“Well, see. The fight club isn’t exactly sanctioned by the government. Everything with it is,” Kishishi paused, “off the books.”

“So it’s illegal, and ya want me ta join so ya can have a full tournament,” Grimmjow deduced.

“Well, one of the guys decided it wasn’t worth riskin’ his life anymore.”

“I’m in.”

“But, he just had a- did ya just say ya’d do it?”

“Yeah; back home we fought all the time. I got the scars to prove it.” Grimmjow removed the left side of his jacket as proof.

“Shit, man! What the hell’d yer parents do to ya?!” Kishishi gasped.

“I don’t have parents. It was my spoon wearing freak of a brother, Nnoitra,” Grimmjow explained. He put his jacket back on. He was both grateful and pissed about that espada’s death. He wanted to kill him himself, but he was unconscious at the time. “Can I use weapons, or is it all fists?”

“Ya can use yer feet, too, but no weapons; keeps it fair. Follow me,” Kishishi stated with a hand motion that said this way. Grimmjow followed the fight club owner down a dark alley and into the basement of a local building. He opened a door and punched a number into a keypad that was so long the most remembering person would have to study it for a week. They were met by another door that had a complex analog locking mechanism. The owner twisted a nob in three directions so fast it was a blur, pulled on a handle, and opened the door to a changing room. Several other fighters were getting ready for a fight. Many of them wore extremely short boxers and were wrapping their wrists, fists, and ankles.

“Hey, Boss. Who’s the new guy?” a short green haired man asked. He looked tough, but from what Grimmjow could tell, that was it. His hair was obviously not naturally green since bright blonde roots were showing. The guy’s voice was over confident.

“The name’s Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Who’re ya?” Grimmjow snapped.

“Rico, but my ring name is Slayer. Five time champion of Fight Underground,” Rico stated.

“Rico is one of the best fighters here. Don’t get discouraged if ya lose the first couple tournaments. That’s normal,” Kishishi stated. Grimmjow boffed.

“I only ever lost to one guy in my life. I’m not gonna lose here,” Grimmjow stated with a psychotic grin.

“The tournament’s tonight. Ya won’t get much practice in.” Rico returned the grin with his own psychotic grin. Grimmjow couldn’t help but like this guy.

“No rules, but just as a courtesy, don’t hit below the belt, if ya get my drift,” Kishishi explained.

“I don’t stoop. I thought that was already clear.”

(break)

Ichigo really hated doing this. Hasuboro was almost finished and it was becoming obvious the guy had violent tendencies. He hadn’t reached strangling, but he was basically beating the orangette the whole time he fucked him. He didn’t leave any marks, but the strikes were painful, after all, a doctor knows how to inflict the pain without the damage. He came, and basically collapsed over the orange haired man.

“You seem so cold everytime we do this, Ichigo,” Hasuboro panted with a curious look.

“It’s Kurosaki. Just pay me and get out,” Ichigo hissed.

“Now that’s just mean.”

“If ya want nice, pay me more, if ya wanna cheat on yer wife like always, just pay the normal rate. I’ll give ya nice next time,” Ichigo stated. It was a completely emotionless statement. Hasuboro pulled out his wallet and removed a couple hundred yen. The orange haired took the money and sat up. He stretched out and popped his neck. He needed another shower, but he’d get one later. He pulled on the pair of sweat pants to cover himself. He was used to sex with other men at this point, so he was mostly sore from the beating.

“I could take care of you when the divorce goes through if you’d be my boyfriend. You won’t need to worry about anything,” Hasuboro offered.

“Yeah, ya say that everytime. Ya never gonna leave yer wife, so just stop. Ya know where the bathroom is if ya wanna get a shower,” Ichigo grumbled out. Hasuboro stood up and started to get his suit back on.

“I’ll pass. My wife’s with her mother for the next week. When will you give me your number, Berry?”

“Never, and it’s Kurosaki. I’m not yer boyfriend,” Ichigo stated just before he left the small bedroom with the cash securely clenched in his fist. Grimmjow lolled his head over the back of the couch to look at the ex-shinigami upside down.

“Who’s yer friend?” Grimmjow asked. He was sporting a nasty looking shiner over his left eye and his right lip was split.

“And where have ya been? I got off work two hours ago,” Ichigo snapped.

“I was at work. Now who’s yer friend?”

“That’s none of yer business!”

“Ichigo, is he another,” Hasuboro paused, “you know.”

“No, he’s my lazy, freeloading roommate that ate a week’s worth of food in less than twelve hours!” Ichigo hissed.

“Fourteen ramen cups isn’t a week’s worth of food. It’s a week’s worth of snacks. Besides, I’m not freeloadin’ anymore. I got a job. Now who’s yer friend?” Grimmjow rolled over to glare at the two from a perch on his arms.

“My name is Youbutsu Hasuboro. May I ask your name?” Hasuboro introduced.

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Now what’re ya doin’ here?”

“I had some business with Ichigo,” Hasuboro stated.

“Kurosaki! There is nothin’ between us and there never will be!” Ichigo shouted. He snatched up his pack of cigarettes and a lighter before he stormed out the front door. Grimmjow stood up and followed him out the door. The two leaned on the railing while the orange haired man struggled to get the spent lighter to light. The teal haired espada pulled out a rolled up wad of thousand yen bills that had to be secured with a rubber band.

“Don’t ask how I got it, just know I’ll be getting’ this every week. I have no idea what ta do with it,” Grimmjow stated as he handed it to Ichigo. The orange haired man gave up trying to light up from shock. He took the wad and looked it over.

“There’s at least 10,000,000 yen here. What did ya do?” Ichigo mindlessly questioned. Grimmjow brought a clenched fist down on orange locks. It wasn’t hard enough to cause damage, but it was hard enough to point out he didn’t want to talk about it.

“I said don’t ask! Just know I got a job!” Grimmjow reiterated. He wasn’t really happy that Rico got a few good hits on him, but he still won the tournament. Ichigo pocketed the wad and removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth. They looked out at the sky. The sun was setting and the clouds were glowing bright shades or orange and red. Neither male noticed Hasuboro jealously sneaking out. They just silently watched the sky in a state of temporary content.


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo had the day off, so he was out shopping for groceries. The night before, after Hasuboro left, he counted up how much money Grimmjow actually brought in. It turned out he’d only brought 9,870,300 yen; not quite 10,000,000 like the original guess, but still a lot of money. The two could eat like normal people for several months on that kind of money instead of just ramen cups twice a day. It was a diet like that in which was the reason the ex-shinigami was still smaller than the espada taking over his life. Life was finally starting to look up for the orangette; now all he had to do was get rid of the Segunda and everything would be perfect.

Ichigo walked down each aisle and put random groceries in his cart. Grimmjow had insisted on going to a café near the apartment for breakfast. Neither of them had really eaten anything all day yesterday, so the request wasn’t unfounded, but the espada didn’t have to be so cruel about it. If only he hadn’t told him the basic concept of money.

_“I don’t give a shit what ya think is a valid thing to spend the money on! I’m fuckin’ hungry and I wanna go get some god damn food! Besides, I won the money and I wanna get some new clothes that actually fit!” Grimmjow shouted. He threw a giant pillow at Ichigo’s head and it hit its mark dead on._

_“Too bad! No one gives a shit about yer clothes and the kitchen needs to be restocked! You ate all the food in the house and now expect to go eat at an expensive restaurant! Yer a greedy bastard!” Ichigo shouted back after he tossed the pillow aside. The two stared each other down, but the tension was broken when both of their stomachs growled at the same time._

_“I’m hungry, Kurosaki. There’s no food here, but there is food at the café,” Grimmjow stated. He was far too hungry to continue arguing. Ichigo sighed in defeat and motioned for the Segunda to follow._

_“I guess it’s not smart to go shopping on an empty stomach anyway,” Ichigo agreed._

It was a rather interesting way to start the morning. Grimmjow was still naked in the orangette’s bed, so that was still an aggravation. The ex-shinigami’s belly still wasn’t full, but it was full enough to shop for groceries. Both he and the Segunda had a three thousand yen limit for each of them when they split up.

By the time Ichigo had finished grabbing everything they would need for the next two weeks, and paid for it, he’d spent about 1,932 yen. It was a little more than he wanted to spend on groceries, but Grimmjow had insisted that he not get sub-par food. He was going to stop at the health and beauty department to get more body wash, but he couldn’t justify spending the amount of money on it that the grocery store wanted. He’d just get home and put the groceries away before he went back out to get the toiletries.

Ichigo unlocked the door and opened it. He lugged the four bags of groceries into the kitchen and put them away one at a time. He looked at the inside of the fridge for the first time in months. The orangette felt a strange sense of accomplishment seeing it full of food instead of just holding the occasional six-pack. Something glinted in the back of the fridge ad he moved the jug of milk aside. It was the last bottle of beer he bought about ten weeks ago.

“Sweet!” Ichigo exclaimed as he snatched the likely expired beverage from its perch. He closed the fridge and popped the top off the bottle. After he grabbed his smokes and stepped out the door for a smoke while he drank the beer. He took a sip and it was, in fact, expired, but he didn’t care. It was beer. He lite up and took a long drag. Over all, the morning wasn’t a bad one. He’s had significantly worse; like the morning Hasuboro stayed the night and refused to pay him for the extra time. He looked up at the sky and watched the clouds move against the vibrant blue while he drank his beer and smoked his cigarette. The ex-shinigami had a strange sense of satisfaction with the way his life was in that particular moment in time. Someone walked behind him, but he didn’t care. He just finished his beer and cigarette.

“Hey, Ichigo,” a far too familiar voice sang. The ex-shinigami tensed and his world suddenly went to a very dark place.

“Why are you here, Tenma?” was all he could force out.

“I was just thinking about all those cold nights we spent together. Do you remember those, Ichigo?” Tenma cooed. He put his hands on the railing next to the ex-shinigami’s arms. The vile man pressed his body against the orangette’s back and breathed in his scent. The smaller male shuddered and almost vomited over the rail.

“That was different. I was trapped in a cage with ya,” Ichigo forced out. His eyes were screwed shut. He could feel the other growing hard. It was terrifying.

“That saddens me, Ichigo. That saddens me a lot. Ya really only cared fer me ‘cause we were in a cage together? Is that really how ya think of those three years?” Tenma whispered in the younger male’s ear. He gave it slow, sloppy lick just before he nipped it hard.

“S-stop sayin’ my name like that!” Ichigo demanded.

“Or what? We both know ya never fight back, so let’s have some fun. Won’t it be great, Ichigo? Just like old times,” Tenma cooed. He gripped the smaller man’s wrists and pulled him into the apartment. The orangette used the still lit butt to burn the larger male’s arm, and almost instantly, the offending appendage was pulled out of its socket at the shoulder. The pain shot through the ex-shinigami’s entire body before he was roughly thrown to the floor. In the fall, the orangette’s foot caught on the couch and forced his ankle out of place. He looked up at the brute with a fierce glare that quickly turned to fear.

“That wasn’t very nice Ichigo. I think ya need ta be punished,” Tenma sang with a psychotic grin. Lecherous violence clouded the man’s eyes as he slowly stepped towards the panicking Ichigo. The ex-shinigami was desperately clawing his way to the only place in the apartment with a lock; the bathroom. He only needed a few more feet and he’d be behind a locked door. Strong fingers tangled themselves in orange locks, and the poor man was yanked backward off the floor then thrown painfully on his back. A hard fist slammed into the side of the smaller male’s head and everything went fuzzy, but he could somewhat feel a weight settling just above his hips.

“It’s interestin’ seeing you in this position with that nasty bruise on yer face. Does it hurt, Ichigo?” Tenma pushed his right thumb into the heart of the bruise under the orangette’s left eye. He let out a painful growl and jerked his face away. His only useful arm pushed itself into the larger man’s chest in a feeble attempt to get him off.

“Get outta my house!” Ichigo shouted. The only thing going through his head was what Grimmjow might think of this situation, but he couldn’t bother himself to wonder why that was going through his head. Tenma gripped the thin wrist pushing on him and pinned it over his victim’s head.

“Kurosaki, I may not know how things work here very well, but leavin’ the front door open in the middle of the day is just askin’ for somethin’ bad to happen,” Grimmjow called through the door. He couldn’t see what was going on in the living room since he was carrying at least twenty bags full of clothes. Some looked like they came from thrift stores and other’s held designer brand labels. He flopped the bags onto the couch and looked in the direction he could hear breathing from. Tenma grabbed the empty beer bottle that landed nearby and smashed the end off.

“If ya so much as think of doin’ anythin’ stupid, I’m gonna cut up his pretty little face! Got it, Big Guy?” the violent human announced. He held the shattered end to Ichigo’s face threateningly. Grimmjow let out a low growl and gave the evil human a threatening glare before he left his gigai. Tenma started to laugh loudly before he turned back to the orangette. The ex-shinigami wasn’t paying attention to the broken bottle and followed the rage filled espada move to behind his attacker. In the process, a small cut presented itself on the younger male’s face.

“Yer new man can’t even stand the sight of broken glass! That’s pathetic, even for ya!” He didn’t see the true form of the Segunda standing behind him with a murderous look. Soon, the intruder was ripped from his perch and dragged to the back window. Grimmjow opened the portal and pulled the terrified male up to the roof of the apartment complex. He pushed the struggling body to the edge in the front and forced his reiatsu into the poor man’s soul. Tenma’s eyes widened as the espada’s true form came into his sights.

“Didn’t I tell ya Ichigo is my bitch?” Grimmjow shouted and shook the human. All the poor man could do was nod. “And didn’t I also say ya’d be a dead man if I ever saw ya again?” There was another nod just before the arrancar release the terrified man from his grip. “Boo!”

Tenma screamed and stumbled backward off the roof. Ichigo watched the body fall in slow motion from the open door. There was a distinct, wet crunching sound that deafened every other sound in and out of the apartment. A woman screamed just as Grimmjow stepped back into the living room and closed the front door. His first priority was to make sure Ichigo was okay, so that was the first place he went.

“Why the fuck did ya kill him?!” Ichigo screamed.

“I didn’t. He fell off the roof on his own. Let me see yer arm,” Grimmjow stated coldly. It was almost unnerving to see such a passionate being this emotionless, but Ichigo didn’t care.

“No! Tell me why!”

“Because yer my prey, and I will _not_ lose that to some pathetic weakling that couldn’t even match up to ya on yer worst day! I’m gonna be the one to kill ya, and no one else!” Grimmjow shouted back. He grabbed the injured orangette a little rougher than he should have and looked at the dislocated shoulder carefully. “This is gonna hurt.” Without any other warning, he shoved the joint back into place and the ex-shinigami yelped that barely drowned out the crackling sound. “Any other injuries?”

Ichigo hesitated as he rubbed his shoulder. It felt better back in place, but it still hurt, and he wasn’t too happy about what happened. “My ankle,” was all he could say. Grimmjow examined the twisted ankle and almost quickly turned it so it popped back into place. He helped the ex-shinigami to the couch and went to get a couple ice packs. Ichigo looked in the nearest bag of clothes to see what kind of things the Segunda would be wearing from now on and got a sudden shock. Most of the clothes looked like they were worn out already while others were just way too expensive looking.

“Grimmjow, how much money did ya spend?” Ichigo called into the kitchen.

“I think I spent about 15,000 yen. Why?” Grimmjow stated as he walked back to the couch with two freshly wrapped ice packs. He made the orangette rest his ankle on a pillow before he placed one pack on it, and pressed the other to the smaller man’s shoulder. Ichigo growled a low growl before he smashed one of the clothing bags into the espada’s face.

“Ya had a god damn budget! How are we gonna eat and bath if ya spend that much on fuckin’ clothes!?” Ichigo shouted. He wasn’t too happy about hearing that much money was spent from the household. Grimmjow growled angrily before he snatched up the bag that hit him.

“Not like ya deserve it, but I also got ya some new clothes that don’t look like they came outta a dumpster!” the Segunda snapped as he pulled out several outfits that would never fit him. They were all Ichigo’s size, and they were all designer brand.

“Grimmjow, do you know what a ‘parole officer’ is?”

“No. What’s ‘parole’? Is it a food?”

“Of course ya don’t. I didn’t expect Hueco Mundo to have jail,” Ichigo snapped. He leaned back and pouted in aggravation just at the cold ice started to penetrate his aching muscles. Grimmjow was too frustrated to fight with the orangette, so he went and put all the new clothes he’d bought away. The rest of the day went on without a word, and without the necessary toiletries. The entire afternoon was a tense, silent wreck that had both men on edge.

(break)

Ichigo had sprawled himself out on the couch. He really didn’t want to move since the attack, so he didn’t move when there was a knock at his door. Grimmjow had long since gotten back in his gigai and answered the door.

“Hey, Ichigo! I just got back from the tournament and guess who got a contract with Pride!” Tatsuki’s distinct voice called in as soon as the door was opened. She didn’t even pay attention to who answered the door until after she made the announcement. The espada looked down at the martial artist with a bored look. She was carrying a bag with six glass bottles neatly arranged in a cardboard carrying case and a much larger glass bottle that was just there in one hand and three flat boxes that had a warm, doughy, smell with something else that was completely unpleasant to the Segunda’s nose.

“Kurosaki isn’t able to receive guests at this time. I’ll pass on your message,” Grimmjow robotically stated. He’d had a coffee cup thrown at him every time he was rude to someone at the door and he really didn’t want to hear the bitching about having to fix more dishes.

“Grimmjow! Tatsuki is my friend, and she can come in!” Ichigo snapped from the couch. He was still pissed about the 15,000 yen being spent on clothes among other things. The espada just grumbled and stepped aside to let the young woman in. Ichigo forced himself to sit up and give his friend a forced smile. She cautiously stepped inside with a defensive glare at the espada.

“Uhm, Ichigo. Why is he here?” Tatsuki questioned with a strong tone of defense. She never turned her back to the teal haired man, but somehow didn’t trip over any furniture either.

“Apparently Hat’n’Clogs thinks he’d be a good person to protect me until I get my powers back,” Ichigo grumbled. He went back to laying on the couch just before the smell that had Grimmjow cringing hit his nose. “Hey, is that supreme pizza?”

“That guy is insane! Does he even kn-,” Tatsuki paused when she saw the condition her friend was in. “What happened to ya, Ichigo!? I’ll beat the shit outta whoever did it!”

“I fell down the stairs and I’m pretty sure the landlady wouldn’t like someone beatin’ them up for it,” Ichigo lied. He snagged a pizza box from its perch and opened it. He pulled out a piece and started to munch on it while Grimmjow covered his nose.

“That shit stinks,” the espada snapped.

“If you don’t like it don’t eat it!” Tatsuki snapped. Grimmjow growled a little before he closed the door and trudged to the kitchen. He’d never met this girl before and had no clue why she would hate him right off the bat. He opened the fridge and pulled out a peach. He sunk his teeth into it just as he heard a bottle open. He watched the two humans eating the pizza and he wondered how they could stand the smell. They chit chatted about pointless things he didn’t even bother paying attention to. He only wanted to know what this Tatsuki chick’s deal was. After a few minutes she looked over at the teal haired espada and glared hard.

“Stop starin’ at me, Freak!” she shouted. Grimmjow tossed the peach pit blindly into the sink and stormed to the door. He opened it to leave, but stopped when Ichigo finally said something to him.

“Where do ya think yer goin’,” he questioned.

“I’m goin’ to hang with the guys from work! Ya clearly have help here, so I’m leavin’,” Grimmjow snapped. He slammed the door and raged down the street until he reached the alleyway the underground fight club was in. He pulled the paper he was given that had all the codes to get to the training room and entered. As soon as he entered the gym, he took off his jacket and shirt before landing a bone shattering punch to a heavy bag.

“Hey, Grimmjow! Ya missed the sparin’ matches earlier. Everythin’ cool?” Rico called from across the room.

“My roommate’s got a bitch over! I need to get some steam out,” Grimmjow explained between punches. His body gave off the aura that he didn’t want to go deeper into it. He just kept throwing punches at the bag and finished it off with a jump-spin-side kick. The heavy bag came off the hook and slammed to the floor with a loud thump. Rico almost instantly moved to wrestle with the bulky bag to get it back on its hook. He managed to get it upright, but now had to lift it a good six feet into the air.

“Yeah, that sucks. By the way, I’ve been meanin’ ta ask about those scars. How’d ya get ‘em?” the green haired man questioned.

“I got ‘em in a war that had no point. My brother gave me the one on my shoulder and a warrior named Ichigo Kurosaki gave me the one on my chest. I plan to kill ‘im fer it, too,” Grimmjow explained. He took the bag from Rico and hoisted it back onto the hook.

“I see. Wait, Kurosaki? Ichigo Kurosaki? The bitch boy of cell block twelve put a scar on yer chest?” Rico stated in a tone of shock just before he started to laugh uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?” Grimmjow asked. His eyebrow twitched in aggravation. Rico fell to the floor holding his sides as he tried to catch his breath while tears formed at the corners of his eyes. When the fellow club member finally caught his breath and sat up, he wiped his eyes and looked up at his blue haired friend.

“Ichigo Kurosaki was passed around like a blow up doll in prison ‘til Tenma Hibiki claimed him. The kid never fights. I know I’d fight if forty guys wanted to pound my ass non-stop,” Rico explained with a small hint of amusment in his voice. “Ya musta been weak as hell if _he_ did that ta ya.”

Grimmjow planted his foot in his green haired friend’s face with a pissed growl. He still had no idea what prison was, and he really didn’t want to know. He just really hated be called weak.

“Kurosaki isn’t weak! He was a great warrior and deserves respect!” the Segunda snapped.

“Ya are talkin’ about a scrawny orange haired kid right?” Rico asked.

“Yeah, and I’ll fight him again, and he won’t be movin’ afterwards!”

“Hey, man, whatever. I met him in prison, so he coulda been different before.” Rico put his hands up in defeat. “Just fer curiosity sake, who’s yer roommate?”

“Ichigo Kurosaki.” Grimmjow went back to beating the heavy bag and ignored Rico’s presence. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the time the espada was in the training room.

Grimmjow left the fight club still in a fog of rage. The sun had long since set and he wasn’t too happy about being laughed at, or being told his rival was weak. He opened the door to the apartment and saw Ichigo passed out on top of a very drunk Tatsuki. He turned to leave again, but the woman called him back in.

“Hey! Can ya get ‘im offa me?! Please!” she shouted. Grimmjow silently picked up the unconscious orangette and carried him to the bedroom before he returned to the main room and sat down on the couch.

“So, where’d ya go?” she asked. The espada shot her an agitated glare. “Itsigo told me what happened before I got here, so I forgive you.”

“Forgive me for what?” Grimmjow snapped moodily. He was just waiting for her to get up and leave.

“Fer beatin’ him up five years ago. It’s weird that ya’d go from that to this. Understand, I’ve been tryin’ to keep ‘im safe fer the past four years. Since he lost everythin’,” Tatsuki commented. Her eyes looked down at the floor as tears fell from the memory of what happened.

“Stop cryin’. I don’t give a shit what happened ta him. All I care about is fightin’ the old Ichigo,” Grimmjow grumbled.

“Yer an ass!” Tatsuki snapped while she slammed a throw pillow in the espada’s face. He just growled at her, mostly since Starrk got the same way when he drank. “Itsigo’s first crush treated him terrible!”

“And that applies ta me how?”

“It’s how he lost his powers!” Tatsuki snapped. Grimmjow gave her a surprised look before he motioned for her to continue. If he knew how the kid lost his powers, maybe he could help bring them back and he’d get what he wanted.

“This guy in high school tricked him inta goin’ to a place that was deserted and empty. Six guys we went ta school with pinned him down and had their way with him. Even recorded it an’ everythin’. A piece of ‘im split off when they were done. It killed everyone but Itsigo. After that, he never fought anythin’. He didn’t even contest the charges,” Tatsuki explained. She sobbed a couple more times before she moved to lay her head on Grimmjow’s lap. “Don’t hurt ‘im anymore. Please.” She passed out and the espada mindlessly ran his fingers through her dark hair. He looked at the empty pizza boxes on the coffee table and they were accompanied by six brown bottles, all empty, and a taller bottle that had “Everclear” written in fancy lettering on it. Everything was empty, and the whole pile reeked of bad food and booze, but he couldn’t move to clean it up.

Grimmjow lolled his head over the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. He wondered egsactly how many men had been inside Ichigo, and how many of them were welcome there. He was pretty sure Tenma had, but wasn’t welcome, Hasuboro was only welcome if he paid for it, and the six that forced him into it. He also wondered if he’d ever get to feel that, and if he did, would he be the last one. Eventually the espada found those thought to be fruitless and tried to catch some sleep without moving. It was difficult, but he found it.


	4. Chapter 4

Grimmjow opened his eyes to the sound of someone stumbling into a wall. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was annoying. His back hurt and his neck felt like it was twisted the wrong way. He tried to move and get up, but a weight on his lap wouldn’t let him. He looked down and sure enough, the dark haired woman from the night before had managed to get her arms around his waist and hold him down. He just hung his head back over the spine of the couch to see Ichigo holding his head as he tried to find the bathroom.

“Have ya learned somthin’ about booze?” Grimmjow called in a somewhat quiet tone. Ichigo cringed and gripped his head tighter.

“Ya don’t have to yell. I feel like shit,” the orange haired man muttered.

“I’m not yellin’, but I think I should. There’s a reason I don’t drink.” A strong fist slammed into the espada’s chin and surprised him enough to send him flying over the couch.

“Ya two are way too loud! God my head hurts,” Tatsuki snapped. Her hands found their way to her head and her eyes stayed screwed shut. She sloppily moved to the kitchen and started to look for a clean glass. Ichigo followed his friend and opened a cabinet just above the sink to pull out a couple of glasses. Just as they were downing their first glass of water, the orangette’s phone started to call out its alert to an incoming call. The two friends cringed and covered their ears at the start, and the ex-shinigami pulled it off its charger and answered it.

“Hello?” Ichigo responded and cringed when the other person answered.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Shusoi… It’s my day off and last night wasn’t very restful fer me… I’m sorry, but I just can’t come in tonight.”

Grimmjow snatched the phone away from Ichigo and held it to his ear.

“Ichigo has a hangover. He can’t work, so find someone else,” he announced and hung up. Ichigo glared daggers at the teal haired man and lunged for the phone. The Segunda simply side-stepped out of the way and caught the falling orangette.

“Don’t think you can just go ahead and do anythin’ today. Ya put yerself in this situation, and yer gonna deal with it. Get another glass of water and go ta bed,” Grimmjow ordered as he put the scrawny man back on his feet.

“Yer messin’ with my job, Grimmjow!” Ichigo started to argue.

“Don’t argue with me!” the espada commanded in a loud voice. The two hung over humans cringed and held their heads just before the dark haired woman slammed her foot into the back of the teal haired arrancar’s head. He fell forward to the floor with a loud thud.

“Stop yellin’, Asshole! Get a hangover and see how ya like people gettin’ loud around ya!” Tatsuki snapped. Grimmjow pushed himself to his knees and rubbed the back of his head. He was starting to get irritated with the constant abuse this woman was giving him, but he did have to respect her refusal to surrender.

“I know what a hangover feels like; that’s why I don’t drink! I don’t pity either of ya ‘cause ya brought it on yerself!” he growled out. “Just get more water and sleep. I got stuff ta do today and I don’t have time to coddle ya.” He stood up and moved to the door and started to leave, stopped, turned to the dish with the keys and picked them up. He left and locked the door behind him. He wasn’t about to come back to the scene he saw yesterday and he needed to get a copy for himself. He made his way down the street and caught the bus to the commercial district. He decided that first night the tiny bed wasn’t going to cut it in the long run and now he had the capability to change that.

(break)

Ichigo woke up to the sound of someone knocking on the door. The sound rang through his head like a ball peen hammer racking against his head. He pulled the covers over his head and grumbled hoping it would go away, but jumped out of bed as fast as his recovering body could handle when he heard a voice call through the thin walls.

“Kurosaki; I’m gonna put out a warrant fer yer arrest if ya don’t answer the damn door!” It was his parole officer and he really needed to answer it. He only half noticed that Tatsuki left sometime after he fell asleep so he was alone. He glanced at the clock next to his broken television and it was the middle of the afternoon. He cursed at himself for sleeping that long, but his aches and pains had started to subside at this point. It wasn’t an entire waste of time. He threw the door open and was almost instantly blinded by the sunlight that flooded in.

“Took ya long enough. Ya look like shit,” the parole officer stated as he pushed his way into the small apartment.

“Nice ta see ya too, Fushitaki. I got mugged three nights ago after work, so, yeah; I look like shit. What brings ya here on this most horrid day?” Ichigo hissed.

“Last day of parole, final inspection. Yer soon ta be a free man, Kurosaki. I’d be surprised yer not excited over it, but ya never get excited,” Fushitaki observed.

“It’s kinda hard ta be excited when yer whole body hurts. I still got my job, I haven’t gotten involved with illegal activity, and I sure as hell don’t know anythin’ about Tenma other than he jumped off the roof,” Ichigo snapped.

“I know; I was his parole officer, too. Yer savin’ grace was the seven people that saw him on the roof alone, and I still find it hard ta believe ya didn’t have somthin’ ta do with it,” Fushitaki stated with a hard glare at Ichigo. Before either of them could do anything else, the front door locked from the outside and a frustrated grumbling fit of pounding on the knob came from the outside. The orangette moved to unlock the door and see how it locked from the outside. A very confused and frustrated Grimmjow stood just outside with the keys in his hand.

“I locked ya in fer a fuckin’ reason!” the teal haired man snapped as soon as he noticed Ichigo standing in front of him. “Don’t go unlockin’ it when yer alone!”

“Yer not the boss of me! This is my apartment and I can do whatever the hell I want!” Ichigo snapped back.

“Kisuke put me in charge of yer protection and I do _not_ fail! Ever! And who the hell is that!?” Grimmjow snapped and pointed at Fushitaki, who by now was staring quite wide-eyed at the two males having the screaming match.

“That’s Fushitaki; my-.”

“Another one of yer fuckin’ ex’s?” Grimmjow popped his knuckles in a very threatening manner and glared daggers of jealousy mixed with over-protectiveness. Ichigo smacked the backside of the teal haired man’s head with a look that conveyed a thought that he was a complete idiot.

“No, he’s my parole officer!”

“I thought ya said ‘Parole’ was a food…”

“Ya assumed that! I don’t expect ya ta understand shit about the five years I spent after the little turf war back in middle school!” Ichigo snapped.

“Excuse me, but who’s this, Kurosaki? If yer associatin’ with someone who’s inta somthin’ illegal, I don’t have a choice but to take ya back to jail,” Fushitaki pointed out.

“This is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. We met five years ago in a pathetic middle school tussle and he’s been overly sheltered since. Now he’s forced himself to move in with me, and I don’t wanna throw him out,” Ichigo explained with more of an irritated scowl than normal. He furiously moved to the kitchen and got himself another glass of water and downed it in what looked like one gulp.

“Yeah, keep tellin’ yerself that! If it weren’t fer me savin’ yer ass three days ago, ya’d be dead! Not ta mention the little home invasion yesterday!” Grimmjow snapped in frustration.

“Home invasion?” Fushitaki questioned with a hint of curiosity that bordered on threat.

“That Tenma guy broke in yesterday and tried to force his way with Ichigo, so I threw him out and slammed the door in his face. All I know after that is he jumped off the roof,” Grimmjow explained.

“Kurosaki didn’t tell me that,” Fushitaki commented with a sense of betrayal and a strong glare at the hung-over man in the kitchen.

“It wasn’t important! The problem was resolved without the law gettin’ involved, and there’re witnesses ta prove Tenma killed himself! I did nothin’ illegal!” Ichigo snapped with his head hung over the kitchen sink. “The cops didn’t ask me anythin’, so I didn’t answer anythin’! End of discussion!”

“Fair enough. I’m outta here ta give my report ta the parole board. Yer a free man now Kurosaki. Don’t waste the time ya got left,” Fushitaki announced and left the small apartment. He closed the door behind him and Grimmjow turned to Ichigo with an angry look on his face.

“What the hell was he doin’ here!?” he demanded.

“The final checkup before I get off parole. I’ve been on it fer six months, and if I didn’t get paroled, I’d be gettin’ outta jail today. I don’t wanna talk about it,” Ichigo stated just before he spewed liquid vomit in the kitchen sink. The nerves combined with his hangover to make him so nauseous, he regurgitated all the water he’d been drinking to try and rehydrate himself. He hung his head further in the sink and supported himself on the edge of the counter. Grimmjow moved to help him to the only chair in the dining room so he could cool down. The Segunda pulled out a packet of herbs and set about preparing a tea with them.

“What’s that?” Ichigo managed to question.

“It’s somethin’ Kisuke gave me. He said it helps hangovers better than rest and fluid. Yer gonna drink it, or I’ll force it down yer throat,” Grimmjow commanded. He was in no mood to deal with defiance at the moment in time. He finished the putrid smelling brew and handed it to Ichigo. One whiff had the orangette cringing with disgust.

“It smells horrible!” he snapped and held the cup away from him. Grimmjow snatched the cup and forced it towards his roommate’s mouth and started to force him to drink it. “Alright! I’ll drink it!”

The Segunda stopped his aggressive tactic and backed off to see what Ichigo was going to do. The orangette took one tiny sip and noticed it smelled significantly worse than it tasted. He looked a bit surprised before he started to chug the rest of it, not missing one drop. He set the cup down and noticed his entire body suddenly felt a whole lot better and his headache was gone. He stood up and didn’t have a trace of nausea. He was, overall, happier to be feeling better.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he stated before everything suddenly went black and he fell forward. He had a vague idea of someone catching him, but it was really vague.

(break)

Grimmjow carried the now passed out Ichigo to the couch and laid him down. Kisuke did warn him that this would happen. It was a side effect that was actually how the herb worked the best. It could even double as a sleep aid for insomnia in smaller doses. After the orangette was nice and snug on the couch, the teal haired man moved to the bedroom and started to break down the bed and drag it out. It was a simple bed frame with an ingenious design. The legs, or C bars as a better description, folded inward to make the entire frame flat with no assembly required. The espada dragged the frame out of the apartment and down to the dumpster. He decided the mattress would be a good thing to keep, since it was basically just a twin sized futon. He folded it up and stuffed it into the top of the closet and went to wait in the living room for the bed he bought to be delivered. The only sound that broke the silence was the sleeping orangette’s breathing. It was soft, regular, and deep; a very soothing sound to hear.

After about three hours, there was a sharp rapping on the door. Grimmjow stood up and answered it with a strange sense of irritation. He’d fallen into a state of half meditation just listening to Ichigo breath in his sleep and he never liked being roused from that. Three men in delivery uniforms stood in the doorway holding pieces to a full sized bedframe.

“Good afternoon, sir. We’re delivering the bed you ordered. Could you show us where to set it up?” the one holding the headboard stated. Grimmjow stepped aside.

“Yeah, right this way,” he responded and showed the men where the bedroom was. He watched them put the frame together with an impressive speed and precision. They wordlessly finished and two left the apartment, only to return with two pieces of a box-spring. They positioned them into the appropriate slates and left again to get the top mattress. After that was in place the three men left.

“Have a good day, sir,” they bid and all Grimmjow gave them in return was an aggravated grunt. He waited until they were completely gone before he went back to watching Ichigo. It suddenly hit him that he never got sheet that would fit on the new bed, so he left, making sure the door was locked and the orangette was still fast asleep. He figured three sets of sheets and a blanket would be enough for now. He’d just got more blankets as the weather gets colder.

(break)

Ichigo woke to the sound of the door opening and he groggily looked at it upside down. Grimmjow had just stepped through holding several large bags in his arms. They were colorful and looked very fluffy. The orangette didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary until he fully came out of his groggy, half-sleep. He snapped up and saw he was on the couch.

“What the hell happened!? Why do ya have a bunch of beddin’ sets!? What did ya do ta me!?” Ichigo demanded so insitantly that he didn’t even notice he was completely over his hangover, or that the sun had gone down at this point.

“Ya got a hangover from last night, Kiuske gave me some herb thing to make ya take, ya passed out, and I bought a new bed. It was cheaper ta get a bunch of beddin’ sets than it was ta just get a bunch of sheets and a blanket, and I’ve been too busy all day ta do anythin’ ta ya,” Grimmjow responded. He felt a little like shopping calmed him down. It was almost like he was conquering a small hollow village and taking all his victim’s belongings as spoils, without all the killing and bloodshed. Not that he minded the bloodshed at all, he was actually missing it a little, but the reminder of home comforted him.

“What the hell was wrong with the old bed!?”

“It was way too small! Ya won’t give up the bedroom, I won’t sleep on the couch, so a new bed was the only way ta go! I got nice and calm and now yer just pissin’ me off! I’m learnin’ the thing ya call value!” Grimmjow snapped before he stormed off to the bedroom to put the new sheets on the new bed. Ichigo followed him and watched as a set of bright fuchsia sheets with pastel blue flowers printed on them were stretched over the massive mattress and quickly followed by a fluffy comforter with a matching pattern fell over them. The teal haired man stuffed a couple pillows into a matching set of pillow cases and tossed them at the head of the bed before moving to the kitchen to make something to eat for the two of them. He was starving and he was sure the orangette was too.

Ichigo helped make some fried fish and stir-fried vegetables with a small bowl of rice for dinner. The two ate in complete silence and collaborated on washing the dishes when they were done. Neither spoke a word to each other and the tension didn’t show any sign of letting up its ascent until Grimmjow went to get a shower. He finished that and went to bed without a single word to the orangette, who took over the bathroom after it was clear of the espada. The scrawny male finished his shower and decided to try and keep his sleep schedule on track and went to bed as well. He, of course, dressed in a loose pair of pants and a tank top before he crawled under the fluffy blanket and settled into the soft sheets. The ex-shinigami knew he’d never be able to hold a grudge against the Segunda for buying such a comfy bed, even if it dwarfed his entire apartment with its size.


	5. Chapter 5

Grimmjow woke trying to roll over, but couldn’t. A pair of lithe arms were tightly wrapped around his waist and held him in place. He raised a fist to slam into the sleeping orangette, but stopped as he noticed something wet on those tanned cheeks. Ichigo was crying in his sleep, and the Segunda thought it would be too cruel to wake him the way he planned to, so he just put his arm around the warm body. It was almost unreal how he’d stopped caring where these strange emotions were coming from. The smaller male had been exhausted from work the night before, so it made sense that he’d still be asleep.

It’d been four days since Grimmjow had bought the new bed and it hadn’t gotten on Ichigo’s nerves as much as he thought it would. The next Fight Underground tournament was tonight, and he really wanted his prey to be there for some reason. He’d asked the ex-shinigami if he was free tonight, but he wasn’t since he refused to quit his job. The Segunda had tried to get the orangette to quit, but couldn’t seem to get it through the other’s head that these late night hours were unsafe.

_“Do I look like I need ta fuckin’ worry about my safety!?” Ichigo screamed at the blue haired male._

_“That’s not the point! I don’t wanna see ya dead before I have the chance ta kill ya!” Grimmjow shouted back. The two glared at each other with electricity jumping between them._

_“I can take care of myself, so stop fuckin’ worryin’!”_

_“Oh, yeah, that’s really obvious!” The sarcasm was as sharp as a knife._

That was pretty much the arguments they had over it. Ichigo continually insisted on not quitting his job, and Grimmjow kept trying to get him to quit for safety. The orangette was just so stubborn that it infuriated the teal haired man, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill the guy before he regained his power. It wouldn’t prove he was stronger than him; it would just prove he could kill someone. The only thing the Segunda could think of at the moment was that there was something bothering his prey and he couldn’t help. He wouldn’t be so quick to try to help his enemy, but he couldn’t fight him in his current condition. The Segunda couldn’t help that he wanted to defeat someone as strong as the young man used to be.

The orangette suddenly started to shift and rub his face into the Espada’s chest. He seemed to be wiping his tears from his face in his sleep. It wouldn’t be long before Ichigo woke up, and he’d probably be really cranky. The smaller male opened his eyes slowly and they looked groggy and deep in thought, but still held a tone of half sleep. He blinked three times before he woke up all the way and the first thing the orangette did was slam a fist into the Segunda’s chin. There was a little grumbling followed by an intense glare and a tiny hiss.

“What the hell was that fer!?” Grimmjow snapped, letting his bed buddy fall out of his arms and onto the soft and fluffy bed.

“You were molesting me!” Ichigo snapped right back.

“Arrancars don’t have a desire, or reason, to breed, ya moron! Why the hell would I molest ya!?” Grimmjow lied. There really was no reason to breed, mostly because arrancars are made, not bred, but they still held an instinctual desire to practice breeding. It never turned out in offspring since they were all sterile as well. “Besides, even if I did wanna mate, I could do way better than _you_!”

Ichigo clearly took more offense to that last comment than anything else because he slammed his pillow into the side of the Segunda’s head. The teal haired man retaliated by pushing the orangette off the large, fluffy bed. The smaller male hit the floor with a loud thump that would have gotten the neighbors concerned if they weren’t already used to hearing strange and possibly abusive sounds. It just wasn’t that great an apartment complex.

“Watch it! This is still my apartment!” Ichigo bellowed out.

“Yeah, and I paid the three months back rent ya owed! And I got ya this awesome bed, which was a lot of cash! Not to mention the fact all the food in the place was bought with the money _I_ earned! And remember who brought in that new wardrobe of yers? It sure as hell wasn’t that crappy job ya won’t quit!” Grimmjow bellowed. He really wanted to just curl up and die at this point, but he’d never admit to it. Something just wasn’t right about arguing with someone that was crying in his sleep.

“I never asked ya ta move in with me, and I sure as hell never asked ya to get me anythin’!” Ichigo snapped back as he stood up. Sometime in the night his pants had managed to wiggle down to the point just above falling off and his shirt had curled on itself and was stuck half way up his torso. The pajamas he was wearing were bright pink and had the very popular, Kawaii Underground, Kappa Moshi character all over them. The only reason the orangette gave for wearing them was that they were surprisingly warm and comfortable for girls pajamas, and Grimmjow threw out all his old clothes including his old pajamas. It was truly a sight to behold. It took all the Segunda’s control to not suddenly pop a wood, mostly because he was not going to let this brat know that he secretly wanted him. The orangette would give in to the bedroom arguments and sleep on the couch at that point.

“Too bad! I still deserve some credit fer makin’ yer life a little better! And savin’ it on multiple occasions!” Grimmjow snapped back. He felt his control slipping and he wasn’t going to last much longer if he kept looking at Ichigo with his clothes in the state they were in.

“I don’t owe ya shit! My lie was perfectly fine before ya came back inta it!”

“Yeah, whatever! Just go make breakfast!” Grimmjow snapped out in frustration. He rolled over and pulled the blanket with him so he was encased in a cocoon of soft, fluffy, fuchsia and blue fabric. He heard a huff and a thin body leave the room. The Segunda let his hand wander down to his crotch, and before he knew what he was doing, his roaming hand was caressing the hidden flesh between his legs. The way Ichigo made him feel was almost too much to do anything about, so he just laid in the bed and rubbed himself as images of his prey danced through his mind. The teal haired espada suddenly remembered he had a job to do that night and what he was doing was not helping at all. He jerked his hand away and buried his face in his pillow trying to smother the images from his head. It just wasn’t fair, and he had no idea how to deal with anything remotely this human.

Grimmjow pulled himself out of the bed and dragged himself to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. He intentionally made sure the water would be ice cold before he let it fall on his head. It was soothing and irritating at the same time. He felt some of his desire ebb away, but the majority of it was stuck in his mind. He was almost desperate to get rid of it at this point. The last thing he needed was a distraction in the tournament tonight, and this was certainly a huge distraction. He managed to get it all under control before he started to lather his hair and scrub himself with body wash. When he was done with his shower, he returned to the bedroom to dress and see what Ichigo was making for breakfast. It smelt really good.

Grimmjow stepped into the kitchen/dining room in a black, skin tight tee-shirt with a skull spitting out a green snake on the front and a pair of distressed dark jeans. He put socks on, and a bright silver chain that was attached to his wallet, but didn’t bother with a jacket yet. The first snowfall of the year would be on its way any day now, so it was getting pretty cold outside. He notices something that looked like thin sliced meat sizzling in a pan on the stove while some small, flat white things with a yellow dome in the middle were crackling away in another pan. It didn’t look anything like what the Segunda was used to, but it did smell delicious. To his disappointment and relief, Ichigo had fixed his outfit before he started making breakfast, so the espada sat down at the small table and waited to be served. It wasn’t long before the orangette moodily shoved a plate of the food in front of the teal haired man. He grabbed his own plate and sat down opposite of his blue roommate.

“Could you explain what prison is to me, Ichigo? And why you were in it?” Grimmjow blurted before he picked up a piece of the sliced meat and sniffed it. That was the part of breakfast that with the delicious smell. He snapped off a bit in his mouth and dwelled in the exquisite flavor and crunchy texture. It was heavenly and he wanted more. He munched more of that meat without breaking eye contact with his prey.

Ichigo put his utensil down and closed his eyes in thought before he went into his explination.

“Prison is a place where people who are deemed unfit to live in society on held as punishment for a crime. I was there because I killed six high school students,” Ichigo stated with a cold sense of detachment. He resumed eating his breakfast and started to radiate the desire to drop the subject.

“Did you really kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t need ta explain that ta ya!” Ichigo stood up and slammed his hands on the table. “It’s none of yer business, so just butt the fuck out!” He stormed into the bedroom and left the Segunda at the small table eating his breakfast. Grimmjow just kept munching on his breakfast and thought about the words he heard from his prey, and then he thought back to what that dark haired girl said.

 _“Six guys we went ta school with pinned him down and had their way with him.”_ The stories didn’t match up at all, but there was one thing that was consistent: Six kids died. That seemed to be the main connection. He’d probably get more information later. For now he was just going to eat the tasty slices of meat and weird white things with yellow domes. He did notice the white part of them was rather bland and slippery, but the yellow part was bursting with flavor. He wasn’t concerned with Ichigo’s mood at this moment in time. He was only concered with food and winning the tournament. That was all.

“I’m goin’ ta work. Eat my breakfast if ya want,” Ichigo announced as he left the apartment dressed for work in a cloud of frustration and rage. Grimmjow just pulled the abandoned plate over to him and started to munch on it. Life at this point wasn’t bad, but it sure as hell wasn’t good.

(Break)

Ichigo was on his way home from his long shift at work. He held his shoulder and rolled it to try and get a small kink out. The sun had long since set and it was pretty much just like the first night Grimmjow came running back into his life. He did manage to get a lot of extra tips from that particular shift. It seemed like a lot of his admirers were out that night. It never made sense to the ex-shinigami why he had so many, he was always a jerk to them. Despite his rude and detached attitude towards them, they still kept coming, and growing at that. It was the only way he’d stay longer from the afternoon shift. It was also his luck that the night he had a hangover, Toshi was fired for not taking too many sick days because of hang overs. The club was now considered under-staffed and the only bar tender that seemed to get stuck with the extra shifts was this particular, orange haired, ex-con. It was irritating.

A large, strong hand shot out from the darkness of an alleyway and yanked Ichigo into it. The ex-shinigmai felt his entire frame slam into the cold brick wall as a large body of an unknown assailant pressed his entire body into the orangette’s back. He couldn’t move as those strong hands forced his arms back painfully. The air filled with the sound of sharp metal ratcheting closed and a crisp, cold feeling of metal seeped through his skin right down to the bones in his wrists. The small male started to panic a little before he tried to scream. A disgustingly wooly ball was shoved in his mouth and secured with a bandana. The whole situation was painful in both physical and emotional terms. He had flashbacks to the night that he lost his powers; the night his inner demon left him all alone and defenseless. The situation wasn’t hopeless yet; he could still see and identify his attacker. At least he’d be able to tell Grimmjow who it was later so street justice could be served.

The last shred of hope Ichigo had was viciously ripped away as a black bandana was tightly tied over his eyes. His only option now would be a futile resistance that involved a lot of kicking. If he were lucky, he’d knock the guy unconscious and be able to run out to the street where someone could help him. He jerked out his left leg and missed before he tried the other one. His entire lower half was now a flurry of intensely wild kicking. Before he could make a single blow land, something sharp and painful jabbed into his neck and something was injected directly into his blood stream. The orangette felt all his strength sudden leave his body to the point he couldn’t even will his legs to move. The fight was completely over now. He was still conscious, but he couldn’t move at all and his last plan of defense was ripped from him. He could feel his clothes being removed, and the hands started to feel somewhat familiar, but that was it. Any other chance he had of identifying this person was gone. All the orangette could do now was lie back and take it.

Ichigo felt his shirt being unbuttoned and a cold hand run over his warm skin. He wanted to vomit, but for some reason the muscle around his stomach wouldn’t work. It seemed like the only things he could do were think, feel, and breathe. It wasn’t long before his pants were undone and pulled down almost lovingly. This guy was seriously sick, and showed every hint that he was going to take his time. It disturbed the orangette beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. Even Tenma’s abuse didn’t compare to this. At least in that he could get a few punches in before the inevitable happened. The sound of the handcuffs being unlocked filled his ears and his arms were free from the cold, hard metal; not that it mattered much with the paralyzing drug. He was mostly naked now, the only clothing he had on was his shirt, and that was wide open. He felt a single finger probe his opening and push past the ring of muscle. It hurt, but the orangette couldn’t even scream into the wooly ball that tasted like feet. All he could do was feel the violating finger move in circular motions inside him. Eventually another finger was added, and it moved the same way for a while, probing and searching the young man’s inner walls. Something cold and slippery was added to the horror between his legs and the friction was greatly lessened. This cut the pain in half, but it signaled that things were going to pick up.

Ichigo tried to get through the drug, he tried to will his arms and legs to move, but they refused to listen. He was desperate now and all his thoughts fell on Grimmjow. What would the Segunda do if he knew what was happening? What if he had no idea it was going on? What if he did and was just ignoring it? How would he react to the orangette if he ever found out? What if he started to hate him afterwards? But the espada already hated him, so that one didn’t really count, but it was a quick thought.

A third finger was added to the already stretched orifice. The three fingers moved in a spreading motion that just stretched the poor man to his limits. Ichigo still couldn’t scream, but his entire body cried out for him to release it all. There was nothing he could do about it. The fingers just kept spreading out and back in. It felt like ages before they were removed and a little amount of relief flowed into the helpless orangette, but even that was too good to last. A hot, throbbing rod was positioned directly at his entrance and panic started to set in. It pushed slowly past the ring of muscle that had been stretched out just before it slammed all the way in. He felt his attackers balls slap against his own and stars light up under the blindfold. He felt his special pearl being hit just before the throbbing rod was pull almost all the way out only to be slammed right back into the same spot. Over and over that one spot was beaten and abused. The orangette felt it was never going to stop, and he couldn’t help feeling so overwhelmed with sensation that everything started to blend together. He couldn’t move, so every sensation was heightened to the maximum. The rough concrete beneath him felt like iced sand paper on his sensitive skin; the cold air tried to chill him to the bone, but the throbbing probe inside refused to let it get that far; every sound in the alley seemed the be amplified and every echo off the walls was audible.

It seemed like hours later before the throbbing flesh that violated the orangette exploded in its fit of passion and left white hot molten desire inside the young man. Ichigo felt the softening flesh leave his battered cavern and heard something similar to a balloon squeak. His attacker breathed in a long breath before he spoke. The words were high and unrecognizable.

“Don’t think that sugar daddy of yours will keep you now. You’re soiled beyond knowing love now,” was all the attacker stated before he was redressed and the gag was removed. He was left alone, abused, and drugged in the alley and he had no idea who did it. All Ichigo could think about was how Grimmjow would react to finding out what had just occurred. Just as the last sounds of his attackers footsteps faded into silence, the orangette could twitch his fingers and toes. All he had to do now was will his body to move even more and he could limp home, defeated.


	6. Chapter 6

Ichigo stumbled into a nearby wall. The drug was mostly worn off, but it was still throwing off his coordination. He was almost home; the lights in front of his apartment complex were within his sights. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do from here, but he knew the first thing he’d get would be a shower. He only hoped that Grimmjow was still at work, but something about that didn’t really add up. It was so late, it was practically early. He’d rather not explain anything about what happened and just forget it ever happened. He was closer now; just one flight of stairs and three doors to go. He could make it, even without being able to move well.

Ichigo managed to get up the stairs and he looked at his apartment door. The light from the tiny window above it said Grimmjow was already home. He guessed he’d play it off like he was drunk. He got closer and noticed an envelope taped to the door. The closer he got, the more he noticed what was written on it. It was his name. The orangette managed to take the note off the door and open it. The paper inside sent a cold shiver down his spine and everything around him just stopped existing.

_You should have chosen the respectable member of society. Now you will suffer the consequences._

It was familiar hand writing. The kind that’s only readable to pharmacists, doctors, and a handful of traditional editors. It wasn’t Ichigo’s father’s, but it looked like it came from someone who shared his profession. There was also a good two thousand yen with it as well. His hands gripped into the paper as realization flooded through his entire being. He still didn’t have the strength to tear the paper apart, and his arms twitched with the strain to stay tensed. The orangette couldn’t hold back his regret and just let the tears he’d been holding back for weeks fall. The weight of everything he’d been through in the past five years suddenly fell on his shoulders and he felt like it was about to crush everything around him.

The door in front of him opened and on pure instinct, Ichigo covered his face and tried to hide his shame. Grimmjow stood in the doorway with a look that was at one point angry, but morphed into a confused panic. He reached out to the orangette, but his hand was slapped away with a vengeance.

“I’m fine! I don’t need yer help!” Ichigo snapped and stumbled into the small apartment trying to keep everything in the note away from the Segunda.

“No, yer not; ya can barely stand!” Grimmjow insisted. He didn’t need to be told what happened; he could smell it. He also could smell who the culprit was, and the bastard would pay very soon, but right now, Ichigo was his main concern.

“That doesn’t concern ya! Stay outta my business!” was the orangette’s response, and it didn’t have a kindly tone. He managed to stay on his feet, but only just as he tried to make his way to the shower. He only got three steps towards the small room he felt he needed to be before he tripped and couldn’t recover. Grimmjow jumped out of his gigai and flash stepped to catch the falling orangette. When the smaller male managed to get his footing back, about two seconds after his fall was prevented, he started to push and struggle to get away. Flash backs from what happened earlier danced through his head a million per second. The only thing he could think about was getting away, and there was only one way he could think of that would give him that result. The Segunda felt the change in reiatsu and let his arms give an opening, but it was too late. The orangette he was trying to comfort was standing right in front of him with a look of terrified shock brandishing his own zanpakto at him.

“Ichigo, just calm down. I’m not gonna hurt ya,” Grimmjow stated cautiously. He wasn’t afraid of what his beaten roommate could do with the blade, he was pretty sure the drug would make his fighting sloppy: he was afraid of what Pantera would do.

“Ya’ve been tryin’ ta kill me since we met! I don’t believe ya!” Ichigo shouted. He was struggling to hold the weight of the sword with the effects of the drug, but that wasn’t the only reason he was shaking. The young man still couldn’t stand up properly and his footing was unstable.

“I want ta kill the warrior ya were, not what ya’ve become. Just put Pantera down,” Grimmjow stated calmly. Some strange part of him was telling him that he had to be gentle, even if it wasn’t who he really wanted to show.

“It’s all yer fault! I never asked ya ta come back inta my life! I just wanna get on with it and be left alone!” Ichigo hollered as his eyes screwed shut. All the weight that had rested on his shoulders outside the door slammed back into him and the orangette started to sob again. He dropped the blade and fell to his knees and just let his overwhelmed tears hit the floor. “Why does everything bad happen ta me?! What did I do that was so bad ta deserve this?! It’s not fair! It’s just not fair!”

Grimmjow let his shoulders slump before he took a cautious step towards the sobbing male. He tested the waters by placing a gentle hand on the other’s shoulder and the first reaction was a startled twitch before a tear stained face turned to look at cerulean eyes. They just looked at each other for a very long moment, and everything the other meant was said without any words.

_Stop crying, I’m here fer ya._

_Don’t leave me alone. Stay with me forever._

_I will stay as long as I can._

Ichigo couldn’t hold back his sudden urge to throw his arms around Grimmjow, so he did. He wrapped his arms as tight as they would go, which wasn’t really that tight, and just cried into the teal haired man’s shoulder. The Segunda wasn’t sure what to do with that, so he just awkwardly wrapped his arms loosely around the crying, abused man. He gave a few gentle pats, but it was still a couple awkward and tear filled minutes before the orangette calmed down to at least act fine. He still refused to let go of his blue catch.

“I want a shower,” Ichigo stated. His voice was calm, but every undertone portrayed that it wasn’t a request, but a demand. Grimmjow nodded and helped the ex-shinigami to his feet. It was unlikely that he’d take kindly to being carried. The orangette took three hazardous steps before stumbling into the nearest wall. The Segunda attempted to help his roommate to the bathroom, but he was pushed away with a defiant shove.

Ichigo managed to get to the bathroom with the help of the wall and his whole body radiated his desire to not be watched after he entered the small room. He let the water flow and the room quickly filled with steam that tumbled out from under the door. He stepped into the stream and cringed as it stung his skin. Despite the pain it was soothing and the orangette felt some of the tension in his muscles ebb away. He knew it wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon; this wasn’t the first time he experienced that sort of violence. He let the heat seep through his skin completely before he started to scrub it with body wash and the poofy. He scrubbed until his skin turned bright red, and then some before leaning his back against the warm tiles. He slid to the floor of the shower and laid his head on his knees. His mind went to thoughts of how sweet Marco seemed before he showed his true colors that fateful night. For some reason that didn’t translate as worse than this night; this night felt like his entire world started to look like it was improving and something came around that just shattered that delusion. Even what happened in prison didn’t compare to that feeling.

Ichigo stood up with great difficulty and started to wash his hair before he realized he was getting dizzy. He did a quick rinse before turning off the water and stepping out to dry off. The entire room started to spin and he had to brace against the wall just to keep standing on his feeble drugged legs. He managed, albeit with great effort, to get to the door and step out into the cool air of his small hallway with the towel around his waist. He tried to cross the hall to his room, but his feet got tangled in each other. Grimmjow managed to catch him, and before he could protest anything, he was scooped up bridal style. The espada carried the orangette into the room and tenderly laid him in the large bed. The two just existed in the room quietly for the next painfully awkward moment.

“I don’t need ya in my life,” Ichigo state with almost a complete lack of emotion.

“Ya don’t have a life anymore. Yer just existin’ from day ta day now,” Grimmjow stated in an uncharacteristically low voice. Neither of them looked at each other. “Ya’ve lost everythin’ that made ya _you_.”

Ichigo bit his lip and rolled over to stare at the floral pattern on the pillow next to him. He stayed silent until he drifted off into a dark sleep. His dreams were most defiantly not going to be pleasant.

(break)

Grimmjow waited until he heard Ichigo’s breathing turn from awake to asleep. He moved out of the room and carefully closed the door and got back into his gigai. He stretched out the kinks form the fall before he noticed a partially crumpled note on the floor and picked it up. A good couple thousand yen was crinkled in it, but that didn’t concern him; it was what the note said. It may not have been enough evidence to hold up in the court that the little orangette had managed to describe to him in the past couple weeks, but it was enough for the Segunda to know exactly who needed to have a good talking to. He tossed the note on the small table before he snatched up the orangette’s cell phone and searched the contacts for a very specific name. He pressed the dial button and waited for a response.

“ _Hello, Kurosaki-kun! What can I do for you?_ ” Shusoi’s voice traveled through the phone.

“I’m not Kurosaki. Ya need ta get yer ass over to his apartment, though. I’ll exlain when ya get here,” Grimmjow stated. He waited for an instant argument, but the only sound was the click of a sudden hang up and he looked at the phone with a curious expression. He waited a few minutes before he decided to try calling her back, but didn’t when he heard a panicked pounding on the door. He answered it in no time but was instantly accosted by a sudden, and surprisingly strong, fist to the side of his head.

“What the hell did you do to Kurosaki-kun!?” Shusoi demanded. She was almost in hysterics but somehow hadn’t pulled a weapon yet.

“I didn’t do anythin’! And be quiet, he’s asleep! Somethin’ happened when he was on his way home and I gotta leave ta take care of it. I need ya to stay here and make sure he doesn’t do somthin’ stupid while I’m gone, of worse, so someone doesn’t get in. If ya gotta leave before I get back, call Tasuki, her number is in Ichigo’s phone. Got it?” Grimmjow explained.

“Well, what happened to him?” Shusoi snapped with a strange sense of caution.

“It’s not my place to say, just watch him while I’m out. And keep the door locked, I have a key.” Grimmjow pulled Shusoi into the apartment and moved out the door. “And whatever ya do, don’t let him drink the beer in the fridge.” He closed the door and locked it from the outside. He followed the scent down several blocks before he lost it at a bus stop.

Grimmjow concentrated hard on remembering the reiatsu of the man he was after before he found a general direction to head in. He broke out into a run to get a clearer direction, and the closer he got, the more pinpointed his direction became. Eventually he stopped at a closed gate to a rather large house. He sniffed around it and sure enough, the scent was there. He hopped the fence and listened carefully for any hint of a guard. There was none. He managed to find the backdoor and tried the handle. It was locked and all the lights were off. The Segunda left his gigai and used a garganta to go to Hueco Mundo, just to re-enter the world of the living on the other side of the door. He unlocked it and resumed his place in his gigai and began to search the house. He started in what looked like a kitchen.

The light in the next room sudden flashed on and Grimmjow had to make a quick dive behind the counter. He peaked around a corner just enough to see a half-asleep woman shuffling towards the kitchen. The light came on just as the Segunda returned to hiding from sight. He heard her coming around on one side of the counter, so he moved around the other side until he had the perfect opportunity to sneak into the rest of the house. His target wasn’t her, but he wanted to take his time with him and that required a capture. He eventually found stairs and he silently moved up them until he found the one room that had the most stink from the attacker. He heard a light switch off and knew he had very little time at this point. He opened the door and snoring rather loudly in the huge bed was the attacker. With one strong pound to the head, the sleeping man had quickly gone from asleep to unconscious just before being hoisted over a strong shoulder. The espada quickly made his way to the spare room across the hall to hide from the returning woman and he cautiously watched her return to the room he found the sleeping man.

Grimmjow took the chance that was so easily given to him and took off down the stairs and out the back door. He opened the front gate and dashed from alleyway to alleyway until he got to the one that lead to his work. He punched in the code and lugged his newest victim inside. He went straight to the shower room and hog tied the unconscious man before heading out to check the locker and training rooms for his fellow fighters.

“Hey, Grimmjow! What’s up? Ya never come this eary,” Rico chirped from his perch on a bench.

“I need a place where the cops aren’t gonna come pokin’ their noses in anythin’,” Grimmjow responded.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“There’s a guy in the shower room, hog tied, and gonna die before the sun comes up.” Grimmjow’s face was pure seriousness without the normal psychotic grin he has when he’s about to beat the shit out of someone. Rico swallowed the hard lump that formed in his throat.

“D-dude, don’t joke like that! I-it’s creepy,” the green haired fighter stammered. He was notably quivering and had no idea how to respond to hearing something like that said with the only emotions of rage and determination.

“It’s not a joke. He touched my prey without permission and now I’m gonna make sure he never does it again,” Grimmjow snapped with an animalistic growl.

“Hey man, I wasn’t in prison for the hard shit like that! I got caught runnin’ an illegal gambling house; I’ve never even seen a dead body!” Rico shouted.

“Like I care! Just guard the door and make sure I’m not disturbed, or ya’ll be next,” Grimmjow ordered before moving back to the shower room. He sat down in front of his bound victim and waited for him to wake up. It really wasn’t that long, but the Segunda was rather impatient and it felt like forever to him. The form started to move, slowly at first, than a little faster. It was apearent that the state he was in hadn’t fully sunk in yet.

“Ah, my head,” was all he could say for the first few moments of consciousness. Grimmjow’s mood improved a little and a psychotic grin spread across his sharp features. His entire being flooded with an insatiable lust for this man’s blood and he was going to savor ever single drop.

“Yo, Youbutsu Hasuboro.”


	7. Chapter 7

Grimmjow looked down at the terrified man tied on the shower room floor. His body was starting to get hot with blood lust and he could barely contain his shivering. He was going to enjoy this far more than he thought he should, which was saying something. The segunda kneeled down and grabbed the doctor’s hair and yanked him upward painfully.

“Tell me, which hand do ya value more? Right er left?” Grimmjow cooed. Hasuboro made a terrified questioning noise before he was thrown backward into a wall. “I’m gonna break ‘em both, so ya might as well say it. Right ‘r left?”

“L-l-le-le-let-,” Hasuboro stammered. Before he could get the words out Grimmjow snatched his left hand and held it close to his face with a death grip.

“Left it is then! This is gonna hurt ya more than me.” The espada started to slowly push his victim’s left pinkie backwards. He savored every second of the pained screams Hasuboro let out. The finger popped as a tendon stretched past its limit and it crackled as each individual sinew broke off inside. Each snapping sound brought the sweet cries louder and louder until the small digit snapped at the bone, and shortly after the skin. Blood splattered across the arrancar’s pale face. The tied man squirmed in fear as the blue haired man in front of him licked at the splatter and moved to the next digit.

“No! Please! I-I can give you money! Just don’t hurt me!” Hasuboro pleaded with despair heavy in his voice.

“Too late fer that. Too bad ya only got ten fingers,” Grimmjow stated just before he snapped the second finger slow enough to be tormenting, but fast enough to emphasize his point. Hasuboro screamed in agony as tears started to form in the corners of his eyes. Rico’s terrified reiastu echoed through the closed door. It only fed the segunda’s bloodlust. He let out a demented giggle before snapping the next finger in his path.

One by one the fingers on Hasuboro’s hand snapped; some broke skin and some did not. Grimmjow let the busted hand fall to the floor. He waited a few seconds for the doctor to stop whimpering before he slammed his foot down on it. The crunching bones were drowned out by a blood curdling scream and the dark locks were yanked upward and thrown into the wall behind them.

“W-why are you d-doing th-this?” Hasuboro stammered out through pain and fear. A vicious hand clenched around the pale, yet masculine throat and squeezed the air right out of reach.

“Ya know damn well why! Not so much fun when it’s yer ass gettin’ beat, is it!?” Grimmjow snapped back. His psychotic grin faded to a scowl of pure rage and he threw the body across the room like a tattered ragdoll. Hasuboro slammed into the wall and started to cough and sputter for air. The segunda stalked towards the battered body just as his victim began to breathe again.

“Don’t think I’m stupid! I can smell a hundred times better then any o’ you! Ichigo is mine and I don’t like ta fuckin’ share! Least o’ all with someone who doesn’t know the meanin’ o’ the word ‘no’!” Grimmjow smashed his foot into Hasuboro’s rib cage on that last word. “I could smell yer stench on him! I could smell the drug ya forced on him! I saw the mark on his neck! I watched the fear and pain ya forced him through! And fer all that, yer gonna die in as much agony as I can put ya through!”

Hasuboro’s eyes widened in fear and realization just before he was gut punched. The doctor sputtered up blood as he felt one of his lungs explode. He crumpled over in a fit of coughing and pain. Each convulsion brought more blood and agony. Just as he was able to breathe without coughing too much, a foot came down on his right hand and crushed every bone conceivable. The poor man let out as much of a scream as he could, but it was more like a horrifying gurgle combined with an elk’s mating call. It was quickly followed by more coughing and gurgling with a heavier struggle to breathe.

“Guess I hit ya too hard. I tend ta get a little carried away when I’m ticked off,” Grimmjow stated with a deranged calm. Hasuboro started to painfully chuckle with a sense of insanity. This was ticking the segunda off even more.

“Ya know, Ichigo never said ‘no.’ Not even when he was capable of moving, not once! You have no idea who the hell that man is! He’s a pathetic little whore and that’s all he’ll ever be!” Hasuboro sputtered out with a new glob of blood coughed out on the floor. Grimmjow lost his restraint, which wasn’t that great to begin with, and repeatedly slammed his fist into the dying man’s face. Fresh blood splattered out in all directions. By time he got his restraint back, his victim’s face was barely recognizable. It was swollen with broken bones and lacerations. He was still alive, but only just, and even if the blue espada was going to stop there, he’d be dead soon enough.

“Sad, I was hopin’ to leave yer face intact, but it’s not exactly a good idea to _piss me the fuck off!_ ” Grimmjow snapped. He reached down and grabbed Hasuboro’s head and put his foot on his chest. The arrancar started to pull upward slowly. Muscles began to tear while ligaments and tendons strained to keep the head on its body. It was several excruciating moments before the vertebrae snapped loose and the man was dead. The espada wasn’t going to stop there, he kept pulling and pulling until the head popped off completely. There was a quick shower of hot blood quickly followed by a spreading pool of the steaming fluid. The blue haired man was too angry to laugh the way he thought he would at this point. He couldn’t help but feel like he was mentally defeated the moment the rapist, who was now decapitated, accepted his fate. He pulled off his shirt and wrapped the head several times before leaving the room. He looked down at Rico cowering like a child just outside.

“Hey, Rico. Clean up in there and take care o’ the body,” Grimmjow ordered.

“I-I can’t! I-I don’t wanna be an accessory!” Rico forced out without moving from his spot.

“Do it ‘r I’ll kill _you_ the same way I killed this bastard!” the espada demanded shaking the severed head towards the terrified fighter. Rico flinched and cried out in terror before he crawled to the broom closet for a mop. He managed to get to his feet with the help of the door before he rolled the mop bucket towards the shower room with a great deal of effort to stay standing. He was whimpering and tears poured from his eyes. The green haired fighter had never been more terrified in his life until this point.

Grimmjow left as soon as he saw Rico entering the shower room. The sun was coming up and he stuck to the shadows of the alley ways. It wouldn’t be long until the humans would be up and about. He didn’t want to even try to explain to one of them why he was carrying a bloody bundle down the street. Eventually he reached Ichigo’s apartment and let himself in. He saw Shusoi sitting on the couch with a disgusted look on her face while the orange haired man was slumped over the dinner table with half a bottle of amber colored booze clenched tightly in his hand.

“I told ya not to let him drink the booze!”

“You said don’t let him drink the beer in the fridge; you didn’t say shit about the bottle of whiskey in the freezer!” Only after she said that did Shusoi look over towards the blue haired espada. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw him covered in blood holding a head-sized bundle dripping with blood. “The fuck did you do!?”

Grimmjow didn’t respond. He just stalked past the pink haired woman and poke the drunked man at the table. Ichigo rolled his head over to look at who poked him. His face was pink and his eyes were dialated.

“Hey Grimm. Ya-look just-as scary as-the day we-met. Whazzup?” Ichigo slurred out as he took another swig from the bottle. Grimmjow tried to take the bottle away but was met with a very heavy defiance until he finally gave up and let the young man keep it. The orange haired man tilted the bottle back until he gulped down a sizable portion of the amber liquid. He flopped back on the table and drunkenly looked at the wall with a depressed expression.

“This is pathetic. Ya know that, right?” Grimmjow stated with a tone of disgust as he set the bloody bundle on the table.

“I don’ judche yer livestyle, don’ mine judche!” Ichigo slurred and took another gulp. There wasn’t much left by time he noticed the bundle. “Wazzat?”

“A present,” Grimmjow responded. He couldn’t look at his old rival anymore, so he turned around and walked toward the bathroom. He needed a shower anyway. Ichigo finished off the rest of the bottle and poked the bundle on the table until it fell open. Shusoi screamed in terror before stumbling backwards to shiver on the floor. The blue haired man stopped and looked to see what she was screaming about.

“Hey, Hazuburo! How ya been? Good? That’z great! I see ya los’ some weight there. Look’z good on ya. Hope ya haf a lo-ong, happy life! Oh? Ya can’? because ya nothin’ bud a head? That’z so sad!” Ichigo said in his drunken stupor. He poked the head and it fell over. The other two in the apartment couldn’t help but stare at him in an irresistibly morbid curiosity. The drunken man stood up and tried to take another swig of whiskey. It was all gone so he looked at the head through the bottle. It looked as though he was going to pass out at any given moment. He started to slam the bottle into the severed head repeatedly. He didn’t even stop when the glass broke and sliced open his hand, and then he just kept beating it with his fist. Several rage filled moments later he smacked it across the kitchen leaving a bloody trail behind it. The drunk man flopped back into the chair and pouted at the mess.

“Ya good?” Grimmjow asked.

“I’m good.”

“I’m not! What the hell was that about!?” Shusoi shouted. She wasn’t used to seeing severed body parts like the two men in her presence. It freaked her out and ticked her off at the same time. “I don’t care how much you two wanna sit there and say that’s normal, because it’s not!”

“Tha’ belonged ta a very bad man,” Ichigo slurred as he pointed drunkenly to the desecrated head. His voice held a strong sense of satisfaction. Grimmjow moved to help Shusoi up, but she pushed his help away. She pushed herself to her feet and tried to get into a position to try to defend the orange haired man. The drunken one just chuckled.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Ya really think ya can stop Grimm? He ain’t a drunk bastard. He’s jus’ a bastard,” Ichigo stated before he started to chuckle again.

“Say that one more time, and I might forget the job Kisuke gave me,” Grimmjow growled. He was desperately trying to be patient. The fact he got to use violence to cause gore earlier was helping a little. Just a little. He was on the verge of growling.

“Listen, I am not in a good mood, Bitch. Either leave now ‘r that’s not gonna be the only head on the floor,” Grimmjow stated with a cold voice. He glared hard at the pink haired girl.

“I’m not leaving Kurosaki-kun here alone with anyone capable of doing _that_!” Shusoi pointed at the head of Hasuboro. She was fuming and didn’t care what danger she was in at this point, or how bad it could get. She’d made up her mind to not leave her friend in the presence of a monster.

“Fine, then sleep on the couch. I don’t care anymore,” Grimmjow stated before walking into the bathroom. He showered and went to get Ichigo for his shower. There was no way the orange haired man was going to be able to stand in the shower by himself. The sight he was met with just around the corner was Shusoi pulling bits of glass out of flesh with some tweezers.

When she finished, Grimmjow stepped in and pulled the drunken man to his feet and walked him to the bathroom. He made sure Ichigo was stable before he started to wash him like a dog. It took a little while since the drunkard wouldn’t stop fiddling, but the end result was a clean drunk with a still bleeding hand. After the towel was ruined from getting the excess water and blood off, the segunda enlisted Shusoi’s help to get a bandage over the wounds and put the orangette to bed. She was given a pillow and a blanket to use on the couch while the other went to bed. The espada couldn’t help but wonder why she wasn’t freaked out by his nudity.


End file.
